It was in this condition that, one day in the late winter I had been out from early in the morning, walking the streets in quest of some honest employment that I might keep body and soul together. My clothing was very thin; my feet nearly bare. I arrived _home_ about nine o'clock in the evening, tired and disappointed from the day's unsuccessful effort, as I had done many other nights. Had I been successful, it would have helped the woman I was with just as much as it would have helped me, and it would only be natural to think that she would have been very anxious to know about the day's result. But, quite to the contrary, when I arrived home this particular evening the doors were all locked against me, and by a woman who pleased to call herself Protestant. And I wish it plainly understood that this was not a warm summer night, but just the opposite, a cold, dark, wintry night in the latter part of February. Could anyone blame me for believing the terrible stories I had heard about Protestant people while I was in the convent? I made my presence known by knocking on the door, but this lady who was comfortably warm in her bed did not condescend to stir herself to admit me. I found a window which was not locked and I entered by climbing through it. When she saw that I was inside she asked, "How did you get in?" Indeed, I will never forget that question. Imagine, if you can, the feeling I had. There were six vacant beds in the house that night, but with the unwelcome feeling which was implied by her actions and talk, I did not retire, but laid on the sofa in the clothes I had worn during the day, as I did for several nights to follow. Shame, shame on such Protestant people! To my sorrow I have found many who have the same spirit that this lady had. She evidently did not care what became of me. If she did not want me there, why did she not tell me? No, she would rather break what little spirits I had remaining. In the meantime, I had made the acquaintance of two real Protestant people, Mr. and Mrs. E. U. Morrison. I went to Mrs. Morrison the following morning and told her about the above incident. She told me that I did not have to endure this kind of treatment, and that, if I wished, I could move to her home, and that as long as she had a crust of bread it would be shared with me. I accepted her very kind offer, and moved a few days later, March 1st. From that day till now, they have been the Good Samaritan to me, always the same in all kindness and Christian spirit. All I am, all I have today, I owe it, to a certain extent, to these good people, Mr. and Mrs. Morrison. "For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me." Matt. 25:35, 36.